


For the Dead Travel Fast

by yauksiei



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Het and Slash, Multi, Out of Character, Top!Sam, Vampire Slayer(s), Vampire Turning, Vampires, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yauksiei/pseuds/yauksiei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a present for Dean's 24th birthday, Mary and John send him on a small "vacation" to a place called Castle Winchester. But the place is anything but a vacation spot, with its dark corners and locked doors, not to mention the reclusive and strange residents. But soon, Dean finds himself unable to leave when the accomplished and admittedly handsome master of the castle locks the gates, keeping him trapped on the grounds. Imprisoned in a place cut off from civilization, Dean finds himself in a bit of a predicament. Especially when he starts dreaming of a certain pale man with mesmerizing hazel eyes...</p><p>Summary sucks, but hopefully the story is better!!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Birthday Present

**Author's Note:**

> This story came to me while I was reading a book called "Dracula, My Love" by Syrie James (don't own!). I don't own Supernatural, it belongs to Eric Kripke. I simply borrow the characters for a little while.

January 24th. A day well known within the Smith household.

Dean woke up that day to his mother Mary smiling over him, a tray in her hands. "Happy birthday, sweetheart! Hope you like breakfast in bed!"

Dean returned her smile, sitting up, "Thank you, mother."

While he ate, Mary inquired as to what her son's plans were for his 24th birthday, as he didn't have work. Dean had honestly planned to spend it like any other day he had off, which was by reading in the library, writing things in a notebook or two, eat lunch, then walk to the lovely park nearby and read some more, while ignoring women's stares and giggles.

But Dean could tell by the look on his mother's face that he would be doing anything but that. So he replied, "I don't know, mother. What do you suggest?"

Mary beamed, the exact response Dean was hoping for. But he was also nervous as to what his mother had in store for him.

After he ate, a servant came in and took the tray away. Mary told him to meet her in the drawing-room when he was dressed and ready. "This birthday will not go wasted like the last one!" she declared before shutting the door.

Dean could already tell that today was going to be a long one.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was. Mary first took him horseback riding through the winding trails of the forest behind their house. This took about 2 hours. Next, she dragged Dean into town, which Dean suspected was for the sole purpose of meeting women. His parents still hadn't let go of the fact that Dean was 24 now and still unmarried.

After about an hour or two looking at shops (and women), Mary took Dean to lunch at the charming cafe near the park. By then Dean was already very tired, despite his sleeping well the previous night. However, Mary refused to stop there.

In the afternoon, Dean found himself taken to the beach. He looked up at the East Cliff, where the churchyard and cemetery were located. He always loved that spot as much as the park for reading. It was also a great place to meet people, for it was a very popular spot in Whitby.

The pair arrived back at the house just in time for dinner. Dean collapsed into his chair in the dining room, completely exhausted. Mary however, for reasons he could not begin to fathom, was still filled with energy and smiled brightly at her son.

"I told you we would not waste this birthday!"

Dean nodded tiredly. Despite this, he did enjoy his mother's company. She was such a nice woman, and beautiful in spite of her age. She was a joy to be around, and one of Dean's best and most trusted friends as well as his mother.

John, Dean's father, joined them for Dean's birthday dinner. He chuckled at the sight of his son. "Long day?"

Dean gave a breathless laugh. "Very. I see you are not sharing my pain. What have you been up to today father?"

Mary rolled her eyes at the first part, but at the last part she looked excitedly to her husband. But, Dean didn't see the flash of nervousness and sorrow on her face before it was masked by that excitement.

John also gave a fleeting look conveying the same emotions, but Dean failed to notice it as well. "I have been planning your birthday present."

Dean raised a brow. He had stopped getting presents on his birthday when he turned 19. Why would he get one now? Still, old childish anticipation rose up in his gut, and he found his energy returning. "What is it?"

"After dinner," Mary promised. Dean gave an eye roll of his own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean finally found out what the present was as promised. John was the one who told him.

"We decided that since you have been working so hard, that you should go on a holiday for a few weeks."

Dean blinked. "But, where is there a better place than here? Whitby is perfectly suitable for me."

"Actually, we have found one other place," Mary smiled, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. "A friend of your father's were kind enough to invite you to stay in his household."

"Friend? Which friend?"

John cleared his throat. "That's a surprise. The grounds are beautiful there, and it is quiet. My friend is a very...good man, and would be delighted if you stayed there. He tells me that the castle gets very lonely in the winter, as his family is---"

"Castle?" Dean's eyes widened. As a little boy, he had always wanted to see and go inside a castle. He used to pretend that the house was a grand structure, filled with secret passageways and mysterious hallways. He had done some reading on them while growing up, and still had a fascination with them.

"Yes," Mary's smile grew, as she knew of this fancy of her son's. "It is a very large castle with far-stretching grounds overlooking the mountains."

Dean bit his lip. Now he really wanted to go. "Well...when do I leave?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight? So soon?"

John nodded. "The journey is a long one. I already took the liberty of packing your things. You leave at midnight."

Dean was equally surprised by the departure time. Why in the middle of the night, when he could leave earlier? Nevertheless, the word 'castle' kept popping up in his mind, driving the confusion from his thoughts. He enjoyed the rest of the evening with his parents, planning out his stay at this castle with the mysterious friend of his father's.

He still didn't notice the pain and fear on his parent's faces.

TBC


	2. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more characters come into this chapter!!! 8D But don't worry, Sammy WILL be in here!!

As John had told him, Dean was put into a carriage by midnight. The castle, or Castle Winchester, as his father had told him, really was very far away. Dean said goodbye to his parents and thanked them again for the present. He could have sworn he saw tears in his mother's eyes, but decided to ignore it, for it was probably just a trick of the light. She had no reason to cry, anyway.

After the carriage dropped him off at the train station, Dean was subjected to many changing of trains until he finally boarded the ship that would take him to the land where Castle Winchester was located. By then it was about 2 in the afternoon.

Exhausted and more than a little sea sick, the voyage was less than enjoyable for Dean. It seemed to carry on for eternity, when really it had been about 2 to 3 days. The food on board was terrible and practically unedible, which rendered Dean hungry as well.

He was just starting to really regret deciding on going to Castle Winchester, when a member of the crew called out, "We are in port!"

Dean almost kissed the ground as he stepped off the ship at last. He savored the sights and sounds of a new place, admiring the old looking buildings and marveling at their architecture. He received his luggage during his observations, and waited impatiently for someone to take him to his final destination.

It did not take long, thankfully. Soon enough, a black carriage pulled by even blacker horses stopped near him. The coachman opened the door to reveal a beautiful woman with blonde hair and brown eyes. She had pale skin and wore a red dress with black lace and gloves. She looked around for a moment before her gaze landed on Dean.

"Dean Smith?" she inquired.

Dean nodded. The woman motioned to the coachman, who took Dean's trunk and bags, loading them onto the carriage. "My name is Johanna Harvelle," the woman smiled, showing off pearly white teeth. Her canines looked unusually sharp. " But please, call me Jo. The master has been expecting you."

Dean gave a small smile in return. He was never very good around new people, no matter how welcoming they were. Jo sat back in the carriage so that he could climb in after her. The coachman shut the door, and soon the wheels were turning again towards Castle Winchester.

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Jo broke it. "From what I understand, you have never been outside of Whitby before, Mr. Smith?"

"Dean," Dean insisted. If he was to call her by first name, then she might as well do the same for him. "And yes, that is correct."

"Well then, a change of scenery might do you good. Transylvania is always so lovely in the winter."

"I can tell," Dean agreed. "I only wish the sun would come out more often. As lovely as it is, the land is also very cold."

Jo shuddered, "Actually, I prefer more cloudy days and moonlit nights. It's much more peaceful and less hot."

They continued to converse for however long the journey was. Dean told Jo a little bit about himself, while Jo refrained from going into much depth about her own life. But she was a great conversationalist, and they had arrived at the castle in what seemed like a few minutes than a little over an hour.

Jo stepped out first, then Dean. The blonde smiled and gestured to the building behind her. "Welcome to Castle Winchester."

Dean's mouth hung open like a fish in spite of himself. The castle was indeed large as his mother had said. The grounds, though covered in snow, were equally as vast, separated from the outside world by a towering stone wall and wrought iron gates. There were some windows here and there, and one of the towers had a faint candlelight in it, showing that it was occupied.

Jo laughed at his expression, and he quickly closed his mouth with burning cheeks. "Follow me," Jo walked towards the entrance while the coachman followed behind Dean with the trunk and bags. He seemed to have uncanny strength for a man his age. He had brown hair with flecks of grey and a bushy beard. He gave a nod to Dean when they met eyes.

Jo led Dean through the large entrance hall and up a flight of stairs, taking him down a corridor that had large paintings of faraway landscapes and many doors along it. There was the occasional bouquet of flowers on end tables here and there. Dean even admired the long rug settled on the hard wood floor. It was a rose colored rug woven with beautiful images of people dancing and forests. This place was truly magnificent.

"Here is your room," Jo finally stopped near the end of the hall. "I hope you find it to your liking."

Dean fought the urge to drop his jaw once more as he saw the room he would be staying in. The floor was wood just like the hallway, with various green rugs. On the opposite side of the door was a large four-poster bed with green silk sheets and thick green curtains in between two windows, with a small bedside table next to it. To the right was an oak wardrobe with a door next to it, no doubt leading to the wash room. Across from that was an oak desk and chair, with parchment and an arrangement of fountain pens neatly placed upon its shining surface. The view from the windows was perfect despite the cloudy weather. It showed the front of the castle where he had just been, only it showed more of the mountains and villages.

"It is perfect," Dean finally answered breathlessly.

Jo beamed. "I am glad you find it suitable. Now then, I shall be back later to tell you when dinner is ready, but for now you have plenty of time to wash up and rest a little after your long journey."

"Thank you," Dean smiled. Jo left.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean washed away the ship's horrible smell from his skin and dressed into clean clothes. Afterwards, he wrote a letter to his parents and planned to ask Jo where he could go to send it. Then he got to work on unpacking. His clothes were soon folded up in the wardrobe. His books were a bit more of a challenge, since his father had packed so many (not that he had any problem with that). But they were soon stacked at the foot of the bed, spines facing the door so he could see them.

He took a long awaited nap on the bed when he finished, loving how comfortable the mattress and pillows were. He slept until a knock came on the door. He sorted himself out and opened it. Jo was there.

"Dinner is ready," she smiled. Dean followed her down the hall, down the flight of stairs, and opened two large doors leading into a grand dining room.

The table must have been as long as Dean's house. It was situated on an equally large rug that covered the wooden floor with chairs all around it. Above it was the biggest and most abundantly lit chandelier Dean had ever had the pleasure of seeing, hung on the high ceiling on a strong chain. There were more paintings that hung on the walls, only this time, among the landscapes, was a portrait of a very handsome man with hazel eyes and thick brown hair. He had a strong jaw and looked to be very tall. He was dressed in black, his pale skin becoming more prodominent that way. The man had a certain allure about him that Dean couldn't name.

Jo caught him staring and smiled. "That is the master of this castle. Unfortunately he will not be dining with you tonight. He sends his apologies."

Dean could only manage a vague nod. He was too fixated on the man in the portrait. What was it about him that made Dean's heart speed up in not just attraction but...fear?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jo claimed to have already dined, so Dean was very much alone after the woman had agreed to send the letter he had written to his parents in Whitby.

Once cleared of any other presence, the dining room was eerily quiet, and Dean could have sworn he was being watched, for he felt a pair of eyes digging into his back. But whenever he turned around, all he saw was the picture of a meadow on the wall. Not even the sounds of the kitchens from the doors not far from the table could be heard.

On the other hand, the food was fantastic, and a welcomed relief after the days of starvation on the ship. In that sense Dean was glad no one was there to see him devour the food like a beast. At least, he hoped no one was in the room. With that feeling of someone watching him through the whole meal, he wasn't so sure he was completely alone.

After he finished, a different person came in after the servants collected his plates. Dean had no idea how they knew when to come in. Perhaps they were the ones watching him. Yet their gazes didn't feel the same way as the other one.

The person that came from the kitchens with the servants was a woman with brown hair and eyes that showed a more bold expression. She had a few wrinkles, but not enough to make her seem very old, and her hair did not have any grey in it. She held out her hand like a man would. "Name's Ellen Harvelle," she gave a smile, showing pearly white teeth with sharp canines that Jo had. "You might've met my daughter Jo already."

So this was Jo's mother? Dean shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Your daughter is a nice woman."

Ellen gave a wicked smile, "Don't get any ideas now."

Dean blushed heavily, thinking she was seriously considering him that type of man, when Ellen laughed, "You should see your face, honey. C'mon, I'll take yah back to your room. It's getting late."

Dean followed her like he had Jo. On the way, he noticed that the castle was much more alive at night, with servants bustling about and what not. He regretted the fact that he was still so exhausted, wishing that he could join the liveliness. Perhaps tomorrow night.

Dean thanked Ellen and went into his room. Once the door was shut behind the woman, all sounds of the castle were immediately silenced. The doors were very thick.

Dean was so tired he didn't even get a book to read before bed and just collapsed back onto the sheets. When he woke up, he was surprised to find that he was dressed in his nightclothes, and tucked under the silk covers. A note was on the bedside table. Dean used the natural light from the cloudy day to read it:

Dean,

I hope you are enjoying your stay so far. I apologize for coming into your room uninvited, but you looked so cold. Forgive my absence last night, but I promise we shall formally introduce tonight.

Yours,  
Samuel Winchester.

The note was written in beautiful cursive, and Dean remembered the man from the portrait from the previous night. So that was Samuel Winchester, master of the castle. To think such a good looking man actually existed, let alone Dean being attracted to him.

Setting the note aside, Dean rose and got ready for the day. He planned to explore his first castle properly today.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean found that many of the doors were locked, and a slight disappointment disheartened him a little. Still, there were a few rooms that were open, including the drawing room, a few sitting rooms, and a ballroom (which Dean stared at the ceiling painting of Heaven and the chandelier for at least a few minutes).

As morning turned into afternoon, Dean finally noticed the quiet of the castle. He had been so distracted with his exploring that it had escaped his attention at how empty the place seemed. There were not even servants up and about in the halls or rooms, nor did Dean see any sign of Jo or Ellen, or any other resident that might be living there. It was just him.

'Where did they go?' he thought, 'Surely they cannot still be asleep?'

He opened the next door, and the thought was thrown out the window. A sharp, very audible gasp passed his lips as his jaw dropped to the floor.

He had stumbled upon the library.

Shelves upon shelves of books on every subject Dean could imagine, covering two whole stories, wound around the circular room. There was a spiraling staircase that led up to the second floor, and in the center was a rug with two chairs, a table in between, and a big roaring fireplace that was brightly lit and radiated warmth all the way to the door.

Dean's eyes widened as they settled on a figure in one of the chairs. Two large hands held a brown colored book, a foreign language written on its pages. Dean could see his head over the chair, or the back of it. He recognized that brown hair. Could it be?

The figure turned at his gasp, and hazel eyes met his green ones. Elegant eyebrows shot up.

"Well hello, Dean." his voice was rich and a bit hoarse. He looked tired, possibly almost asleep. "I didn't expect to meet you until tonight."

Dean found his voice. "Samuel Winchester?"

Something flashed in Samuel's eyes when Dean said his name, but it quickly vanished, and Dean wondered if it was even there at all. "I am indeed. But you may call me Sam." he stood, revealing to still be in his nightclothes. His shirt was open, revealing a well toned chest and set of abs that Dean had to force himself not to stare at. Sam wore a robe over it all, and he tied to up around him. "I couldn't sleep, so I thought reading may help."

"Couldn't sleep?" Dean echoed, "Is everyone else asleep as well? Is that why everything is so quiet?"

Sam smiled, although he didn't show his teeth like the others. He was handsome even half asleep. "Yes. We all prefer nighttime. I hope that isn't a problem?"

"No, not at all," Dean shook his head, "I would not want to wish everyone change their sleeping schedules just for me."

"They would if you wanted it," Sam insisted sincerely, "We haven't had any visitors here in a long time. It can get pretty lonely, despite all of us here together. One tires of their family's company after a while."

"Family? You mean you, Ellen, and Jo are all related?"

"To some extent, yes, and the other residents. The servants however, I am not in any relation with." Sam closed his book. "Well, I should be heading back to bed. In our sleeping times, it is very late for me. I hope to see you again tonight, when I am more presentable."

Dean couldn't help but think that Sam could be covered in filth and grime and still look as attractive as he was cleaned up and well dressed. "I hope the same."

Sam placed the book back on the shelf, in a specific place. He gave Dean one last smile, again not showing his teeth, and headed towards another door that Dean had not seen before. Looking past Sam he saw a wardrobe and realized that Sam's room must be connected directly to the library. How convenient.

"Wait, Sam?"

Sam paused and turned. "Yes?"

"I wanted to thank you for allowing me to stay here. You have a beautiful home."

Sam's teeth glanced between his lips this time. "You are welcome here anytime." with that, he disappeared into his room.

Dean ended up staring at the door for a long time.

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!


	3. Miss Braeden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets a chambermaid, who seems to think him in great danger. Dean has his doubts however, for she is described by Sam as ill. But she looks perfectly sane to him. And why are Sam's hands so cold? Dean has never heard of a family trait like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy! :)

Questions Rise

 

Dean was awakened from his stupor by the sound of the door openeing behind him. Looking over, he saw a chambermaid dressed in very old clothing bustle into the room. Upon seeing Dean, she gave a brief curtsey.

"Pardon me sir," she kept her face down, "Don't mind me."

Dean looked at her for a moment, just to get a better look at her. The maid was very pretty, actually. She had long dark hair with kind-looking brown eyes. She wasn't short, but at the same time she wasn't tall either, barely coming up to Dean's shoulder in height. Her old uniform made her seem older than her young age.

Sensing his eyes on her, and knowing that he was not a resident of the castle, she braved at starting a conversation as she tidied up the library.

"How are you enjoying your stay here so far, sir?"

My, she had a lovely voice! "The castle istelf is magnificent," Dean nodded, casting his eyes once more about the room, "I only wished I could see its occupants during the day."

As he spoke the last few words, the image of Sam resurfaced in his mind, and he was surprised to find that he had to hide a blush before it stole across his cheeks. He'd never known a man to be so attractive and good-looking as the master of Winchester Castle.

His musings were interrupted when he noticed the maid had stopped cold in her dusting, her face going almost as pale as Jo's, with her brown eyes going as wide as saucers. Dean asked in a concerned voice, "Are you alright, miss?"

The maid quickly recovered and replied in the affirmative, before she excused herself hurriedly and exited the room as if the hounds of hell were at her heels.

Dean stared after her in confusion. Why did the thought of Sam Winchester and his familyu trigger such a reaction?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The confusion was briefly forgotten when Dean turned back around to face the books again. He decided to explore the library in better depth.

The number of books alone was staggering. The titles themselves however had Dean in an excited frenzy. Not only did Sam possess all of his favorites, Dean discovered that the man also had books in different languages, like the one he had seen Sam reading earlier in front of the fire before going off to bed (he was reminded that Sam was sleeping just off the library, so he had to slow his steps down considerably in an effort to keep quiet). They were all alphabatized by author, just like how Dean organized his books back home.

By the time he was finished, Dean was beaming and already making plans to stay a while. But he didn't want to put the books back in the wrong place, for he had a habit of forgetting things like that, so he went back to his room, fetched one of his own copies, and returned to the library after some retracing of his steps.

Dean read for the better part of 3 hours before the same chambermaid from before came in and announced lunch. Her presence reminded him of what had happened earlier, and he asked her about it while she took him to the dining room.

The maid swallowed, looking about nervously, as if making sure they weren't watched. She finally stopped and whispered to him in rushed tones the explanation of her behavior.

"Listen to me, sir. The people of this place, they're not to be trusted. I implore you to please vacate immediately. Do not even bother to pack. Please believe me when I say that you are in grave danger staying here."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"The master and his family, they are--"

"Miss Braeden, shouldn't you be escorting my guest to lunch?"

The pair jumped with identical gasps, finding Sam Winchester standing there with an expectant smile. The maid---Miss Braeden apparently---looked more fearful than before, curtseying lowly and began walking again, when Sam seemed to change his mind.

"On second thought, I think I will take it from here."

Miss Braeden gave Dean one last look before hurrying off. Sam fell into step beside Dean.

"You must forgive her," Sam looked piteous, "She has been ill for quite sometime. It was her mother's final wish that I take care of her."

Dean's mind was still reeling from the maid's warnings, and they didn't look like they came from someone who was wrong in the head. Still, he had to maintain composure. "I see. Poor woman."

Sam caught sight of the book held in Dean's hands. "Is that yours?"

"Oh, yes," Dean fingered the old leather binding, "It's one of my favorites."

"May I?" Sam held out his hand. Dean gave the book to him, starting when their fingers brushed. Sam's skin was so cold!

Without thinking, Dean stopped and took his hand. "You're freezing! Are you alright?"

Sam took a moment to answer, his gaze boring into Dean's head. "Yes. My hands are always cold. It runs in the family." he cleared his throat, gently taking his hand away and ignoring Dean's hurried apology before taking the subject back to the book. "So, I see you are interested in adventure stories."

Dean nodded. "Ever since I turned 16. My mother showed me this one and I couldn't put it down." he gave a half-smile, keeping his eyes on Robin Hood in Sam's hands. "She gave it to me for my birthday the month after."

"When is your birthday? Your father said that this time away from home was a present to you."

"January 24th," Dean replied, "What is yours?"

"May 2nd," Sam handed the book back. "I am more interested in less action filled stories myself. I find Jane Austen's works more compelling. Or, if the mood strikes me, the clever writings of Conan Doyle."

Dean dared a glance at Sam as he talked. The way his hazel eyes lit up when he described his favorite authors made Miss Braeden's warnings just fade into the background, replaced by a sort of admiration and undoubtedly further attraction to the man beside him. Dean had yet to discover what it was about Sam Winchester that just brought something out in him that he never knew before.

"Yes, Sherlock Holmes is always a good stimulation for the mind," Dean turned back to the hallway ahead of them, a sudden shyness overcoming him.

Sam smiled, "I agree."

They reached the dining room at last. Sam claimed to have already eaten, just as Jo had when Dean first arrived, so they went their separate ways.

Sam left him with, "It seems we have met twice before we were supposed to. I must admit I hope to do this again very soon after tonight."

Dean nodded. "I'd...like that."

Sam gave one last smile---were his eyes glowing?---before turning and walking in the opposite direction.

While he ate, Dean thought about Sam, his family, and Miss Braeden. The chambermaid herself was beautiful, and she didn't seem ill at all. But then, why would she say such things about the residents of the castle?

Dean also wondered about Sam's hands. He hadn't heard of any family trait as cold hands. It was almost like touching the hand of a corpse! Also, what was that with his eyes a moment ago? Dean could have sworn they were glowing. And the way his family slept during the daytime. Why did they act as such? He hadn't known anyone in his life to sleep during the day.

As he finished lunch, Dean knew he had to talk to Miss Braeden again. If only he knew what would happen.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	4. Who?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I haven't updated in forever!!!! D8 I've been to a SPN convention, then Ireland for 10 days, then the beach after that, then I had theatre camp which just ended last Friday, and then Hurricane Irene came around and almost cut our power more than a couple of times! The wind's picking back up, but I reopened "Dracula, My Love" and got some new inspiration! So, yeah, I hope you enjoy and I apologize again! 8D

Later on that afternoon, Dean searched for Ms. Braeden. Thankfully it didn't take long, because she had been assigned to clean and air out his own room. He approached her with silent steps, nearly scaring her half to death when he spoke.

"Ms. Braeden?"

The poor woman jumped, clutching her chest. "Oh, sir, it's you. Good afternoon."

Dean didn't like to prolong things too much, so he got straight to the point. "Why did you say those things about Samuel and his family?"

Once again, Ms. Braeden looked around frantically, as if they were being watched. Once she was satisfied after a minute or two of silence, she hurried over to him and whispered in a hurried voice, "Because I want you to escape while you can! I am not mad, sir! Master Winchester and his family are not to be trusted! They're nasty, evil things! They plan to trap you here! You will be here until you rot under the stone!"

Dean backed up, shocked. Was Sam right? Was Ms. Braeden really insane?

"They are bloodsucking leeches, I tell you! I've seen it myself!" the maid continued to ramble, "They'll never---"

She stopped talking, face paling until it was almost completely white. She stared in horror at the door, as if it was about to attack her. Dean turned, but he didn't see or hear anything strange. But by the time he turned back, Ms. Braeden was already running around him and out that same door.

Dean's mind reeled from her warnings, and he again wondered if she was wrong in the head. Especially after the last part. Blood sucking leech? Why would she say something like that?

He didn't have time to wonder, because only 10 minutes after his conversation with Ms. Braeden, a blood curdling scream shook the castle.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean ran towards the sound and eventually found that it had come from Sam's room. He didn't know if he was allowed in there, but he banged on the door anyway.

Sam opened the door, looking as attractive as ever, even with his hair a bit messed up. "Dean," he sounded mildly surprised, "Is something the matter?"

"I heard a scream," Dean tried to look past him to see into the room. But Sam's huge build blocked anything but a bit of the floor, which had a scarlet red carpet...that was flowing onto his toes.

"I-is that...blood?"

Sam breathed a curse. That was the last thing Dean heard before blackness stole over his vision.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean woke up back in his room, the memory of blood on his feet fresh in his mind. He shot up and looked at his feet. But there wasn't a speck of red on them.

"Are you alright?"

Dean jumped, seeing Sam sitting on the edge of his bed. "What happened? Why was there blood on the floor?"

Sam's brow furrowed, "What are you talking about?"

"There was blood all over your room!!!!" Dean exclaimed.

Sam looked sympathetic. "There isn't any blood in my room. Dean, you suffered from a bout of fever in the library. We are still looking for the cause. Whatever you saw or heard was all in your head."

Dean shook his head. It had all seemed so real....

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I didn't mean to scare anyone."

Sam smiled, still not showing his teeth. "It's fine. Now, you slept for a while. It's dinnertime. I will be waiting for you outside." he got up and left with that.

Dean washed his face, clearing the hallucinations with the cold water. He dressed into fresh clothes and opened the door to indeed find Sam waiting for him with a smooth smile. The pair began to walk down the hallway towards the dining room.

"By the way," Dean chuckled, "You were right. Ms. Braeden truly is insane as you say."

Sam blinked. "Who?"

 

TBC


	5. A Friendly Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, still immensely confused as to why everyone says that Ms. Braeden had never existed, is taken to dinner with Sam. But strangely enough, no one else is present, and Sam wants Dean to sit next to him. Dean has never seen eyes quite like Samuel Winchester's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I was not expecting this much positive feedback!! XD But thank you all so very much for your kind consideration and for reading my story! So here is the next chapter!

Dean blinked. "The maid, Ms. Braeden. She had been raving things about you and your family."

Sam tilted his head. "I am sorry Dean, but I have no idea who you are referring to. Are you sure it wasn't Ms. Moore you were speaking to?"

"Who?"

"Jessica," Sam smiled fondly, "She lives with my family, and is well on her way to becoming part of it. She has not stopped talking about your conversations with her for the past week." Dean could have sworn Sam's eyes glowed, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Don't you remember?"

Dean's eyebrow furrowed as his memories resurfaced. The image of Ms. Braeden formed into a beautiful blonde woman wearing fancy pink dresses with fine lace, her brown eyes alight and smile cheerful. He remembered talking to her about many things, such as Dean's home life and things they had in common.

How could he have forgotten? Jessica was his friend!

"Oh," he chuckled, "Sorry. Yes, I remember her. I cannot believe I forgot!"

Sam laughed, "Exactly. There isn't a Ms. Braeden!"

"Who?"

His host just smiled, revealing pearly white teeth and sharp canines.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The dining hall was empty, save for Sam and Dean. The master of the castle bade Dean sit next to him, and so he did. It was odd, though. Sam didn't eat anything, just drank a glass of very thick and red wine.

Sam struck up a conversation, his voice a perfect reprieve in the stifling silence of the room. "So, Dean. How are you enjoying your stay so far?"

It hadn't been a long stay now, but Dean admitted the honest answer. "Great! I just wish I hadn't had those delusions earlier."

Sam chuckled, his teeth red from the wine. "Yes. That must have been terrible. What did you see, exactly?"

"Blood all over your floor," Dean shook his head, "And I mean all over. It felt so real, too. And I thought I heard a scream coming from your room. But of course, no one else came running, so I suppose it really was all in my head."

Sam nodded, his eyes drifting over Dean's face with a faraway look. Dean couldn't stop his fidgeting under the scrutiny, his heart speeding up under it. Sam's eyes shone, but not like a normal emotion shine. It was almost like...his eyes were glowing again. But that was impossible. It must be a trick of the light!

However, the glow didn't go away, not even when Sam moved. Dean found himself captivated, his body heating up in the best of ways, warming Sam's cold hand on his face. Their lips were a mere centimeter apart....

"Dean?"

Dean jumped, blinked rapidly. Sam was staring at him in confusion and mild concern. Was that a hallucination? What was going on with him?!

"I'm sorry," he pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. Just a little warm."

"Has the fever not passed yet?"

Dean's eyes were still shut, so he couldn't see Sam's smirk. "I suppose not."

"Here, you should have some wine. It always helps me."

Dean opened his eyes and took the offered glass. The wine tasted fantastic, with just a hint of something that hinted at a metallic taste. Dean looked at the bottle. It was a very expensive Italian red wine. One of Dean's favorites, actually. He'd only gotten to taste it a couple of times in his life.

"This is one of my favorites," he chuckled, "Did you add something in it?"

Sam gave a smile, "Oh, yes. I put in a little extra something to give it more...kick. But it is a secret."

"Ah. Well, it tastes amazing."

"Yes," Sam's eyes flashed, "I think it does too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	6. The First Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dinner, Dean dreams....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, over 190 hits! 8O *gapes at computer* thank you all so very much! I'm amazed at how much you guys like my story! Really, thank you!
> 
> 2 more days until Season 7, so I thought I'd celebrate and add in a chapter for everyone! Warning, there's gonna be blood drinking and a bit more heavy slash! *covers a child's eyes*
> 
> Hope you enjoy! And thank you all again!

After dinner, Sam personally made sure Dean made it back to his room alright, apparently worried over his fever still bothering him. Once the door was shut and Dean was ready for bed, his mind was still quite fixated on his host.

Dean was sure Sam's eyes had glowed, and not in a way that was natural. It may have been a trick of the light, but what if it wasn't? What if...what if nothing. It must have been another hallucination. By tomorrow, Dean should be better.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he knew he was dreaming when he opened his eyes to Sam kissing him, lips soft and cold. Since this had to be a dream, Dean decided to take full advantage of it anyway, because no matter how many hallucinations he had about nonexistent maids and blood coating stone floors, Sam still undeniably attracted Dean in ways that he'd never been attracted to a person before.

Dean's own lips warmed Sam's, eliciting a soft sigh. It was just peaceful kissing for a few more moments before Sam moved to his jaw, then his neck. Once there, he licked up and down the skin for quite sometime. The touches sent pleasant and arousing shivers through Dean's body, making him fist Sam's soft hair.

There was a small pain in his neck for just a second before everything turned foggy and pleasurable. Dazed, Dean moaned loudly, arching into the long fingers that had reached into his trousers and stroked their goal. There was a strange sensation on his neck where Sam had probably bitten. It was so fantastic yet it felt so dangerous at the same time. But Dean just couldn't bring himself to push Sam away...

Sam let out a pleased groan as Dean trembled in his arms, the actions making him continue his ministrations with more fervor. There was a gulping noise, but Dean was too caught up in the feelings he was giving him to notice.

Dean could have sworn he heard Sam's voice whisper in his ear: 'Let go, Dean...let me taste all of you.'

The room flashed white, and Dean's eyes flew open.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The room was bathed in morning sunlight. Dean panted harshly, his body shaking from the aftermath of the dream. He'd never come so hard in his life. He couldn't help but wonder what the real Sam was like...

But all of that was erased from Dean's mind when he got up and looked in the mirror. His face, though a bit pale already, completely drained of all color when he saw his neck.

Blood was dripping from it, coming from two teeth marks embedded in his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! AND HAPPY ALMOST SEASON 7!!!!!!! 8D


	7. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone says it was an accident. But now, Dean isn't so sure. What if those "hallucinations" weren't hallucinations at all?
> 
> But before Dean can get to the bottom of it, he receives a letter that turns his life upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured that I'd write one more chapter, maybe another after this one! Just to thank you all for the patience and the number of views on this story! I hope you enjoy!

Dean didn't remember passing out, but when he opened his eyes next he was back on his bed and a servant was pressing a cool cloth to his face. She had her hair up in a bonnet, with a maid's uniform. She was dark complexioned and her eyes were mahogany brown.

"Are you feeling alright, sir?" she asked quietly.

Dean nodded. "What happened?"

"We all heard a horrible yell, and I found you bleeding on the floor. Gave us all a right scare."

Dean's fingers flew to his neck, where those horrible teeth marks had been. He found the area was dressed in a bandage that went all the way around his throat.

"Sir, if you don't mind my asking, why would you stab yourself?"

Dean blinked. "I did not do this."

"But no one else had gone into your room last night. And there isn't a single living soul in this castle who wants you dead."

'No LIVING soul,' Dean found himself thinking, along with the nonexistent maid's words echoing in his head: 'blood sucking leeches...not to be trusted....'

Did she really not exist? After this supposed dream, Dean wasn't so sure.

"I am certain it was just an accident," the servant interrupted his thoughts, "You would not want to harm yourself."

Dean swallowed. "Of course I wouldn't. I remember now. I was...having a nightmare. Must have scratched myself or something."

The maid didn't look convinced, but she nodded and smiled anyway.

"I am sorry, I never got your name," Dean moved on to another subject so he wouldn't have to say anything else about those ugly marks.

"Oh, it's Cassandra," the maid replied, blushing under his jade gaze, "Everyone calls me Cassie."

"Cassie. Pleased to meet you."

Cassie seemed surprised, since servants never really got attention like this. "P-pleased to meet you as well, sir. I should be going now." she hurried out of the room, blush still covering her dark cheeks.

Once she was gone, Dean washed up and dressed. His fingers kept brushing against the bandage. Because if those things were real, then that dream...that dream hadn't been a dream at all.

'Blood sucking leech.'

'Let go, Dean. I want to taste *all* of you.'

Dean stared into the mirror, memories coming back and replaying over and over. The blood on the floor, coating his toes. The wine that had the strange metallic taste. Sam's hazel eyes glowing hypnotically in the light. Sam's cold lips. His teeth. The slight pain in Dean's neck. The sucking noise. The screaming. The maid who apparently didn't exist...

He stood in front of the mirror, fingering the bandages, thinking about these things for over half an hour. The only thing that stopped him was Cassie returning with a letter from his parents. Dean took it, surprised at how fast the reply came. Usually it took a couple weeks, especially when Dean was this far away.

But to his surprise, the letter was dated September 22nd, two days before his birthday. And although it had John and Mary's names on it, the actual letter itself wasn't from them, but their lawyer. Why would their lawyer write Dean? Was something wrong?

Dean almost fell to his knees when he read the words as follows:

'It pains me to inform the recipient that your parents, as of the twenty-fifth of September, have signed a legal document that states the disownment to Daniel Michael Smith. All items he carries with him, if any, are to belong to him and him alone, but nothing else. Please accept their condolences.

To be clear, this disownment says that Daniel Michael Smith is now simply Daniel Michael. He is no longer entitled to enter the house of Mr. John Smith, contact the family in any way, nor is he entitled to any inheritance whatsoever. Should he try and violate these conditions, he shall be arrested and put into court.

Please enjoy your fall season.

Signed,  
Mr. Collins.'

Dean swore the entire room spun as he read and re-read the letter over and over until the words started blurring. It took a few minutes to realize he was crying. This had to be a joke, right? It was dated before his birthday, so it had to be a joke planned in advanced!

But the stationary was very official. There was even a seal, and Dean would recognize Mr. Collins' signature anywhere. He'd seen it many times as a child growing up.

The question was, why would they do this?! What reason had they to *disown* him?!?! What had he done wrong?!

"Sir?"

Dean kept his back turned from Cassie, making sure his face was out of the view of the mirror. His silence was taken as an encouragement to speak.

"The master has sent you a message."

There was footsteps, the sound of paper hitting wood, more footsteps, then the door closed. Dean made himself look away from the end of his life and over to the desk, where a small piece of neatly folded parchment lay. He walked with heavy steps over to it, all but collapsing onto the chair. Wiping his tears, he put the letter down and picked up the note. Honestly, he expected the worst after a letter like that. He just hoped Sam would give him time to pack.

However, it was the exact opposite.

'Dean,

Your father's lawyer has sent me a letter very early this morning. It was very short, but I do not think many words were needed. I myself do not think I can find the words to express how deeply sorry I am for what has happened. Please consider my castle as your home for as long as you should desire. I promise to help you get to the bottom of the reason as to why those people would do such a thing to you when you clearly are undeserving of it.

I know it may be hard, but please try not to let this tragic event ruin your (hopefully now prolonged) stay. Feel free to come and speak to me should you need someone to listen. Consider me at your disposal.

Yours,  
Sam'

Dean swallowed, his fingers wandering back to the bandages. After all that had happened, should he really try and talk to Sam? Could he without thinking of that...he didn't really know what to call it, since it didn't seem like a dream now. But then again, what if he really had scratched himself? Then there was the matter of how he could have done that. But...if the dream were true, what did it mean? Had he and Sam really...

No. That was impossible. There had to be a sane, logical explanation.

Right?

Unable to take all of these unanswered questions, Dean decided to take Sam up on his offer immediately. He stalked out of his room and towards the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Happy almost season 7!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I don't know if I should continue this or not, so please give me some feedback!


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